


SkyTalia USUK

by ixiepixie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elder Scrolls Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Blood and Injury, Injury, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixiepixie/pseuds/ixiepixie
Summary: Son of some of the most prominent nobles in Solitude, Alfred soon finds himself stranded in the Reach. A mysterious and seemingly lonely hunter lends him a hand.





	1. Forsworn to Die

**Author's Note:**

> AHAHA I have so many things in my drafts but I’ve been drawing more than writing in the last week so I decided since I have this written out mostly already, I’ll just post it. This has been sitting in my google docs for about 4 years now, i even commissioned Pie a few years ago to make art for it shbfsdh but I forgot about it and let it set so long. This is very self indulgent for me tbh because I am a massive fan of Elder Scrolls games. I hope you can enjoy it! Additional notes at the end! (I’ll make a better name later idk what to call it).

The forest was quiet, far too quiet for Arthur’s liking as he hunted for his dinner, spying a rabbit just down the hill. It was close to the road, but he was out of supplies and another chance like this may not present itself before nightfall. He raised his bow and drew back, feeling the familiar tension as the string followed his fingers. Not even a second later the arrow had left the bow and found itself in the rabbit’s side, pinning it to the tree near the road.

He leapt down to collect his game, getting the meat and fur packed away. Then he quickly dropped to the ground and hid in some bushes as a piercing scream rang through the air. It was one of the war cries of the Forsworn in the area, and he knew it meant they had targeted some poor fool on the roads near him. A carriage crashed against the rocks just on the other side of the path, its inhabitants scrambling to get away as their guards were killed mercilessly behind them. Nobles by the look of them. Staying hidden, he watched the whole scene, waiting for an opportunity to get away. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long, and perhaps the Forsworn would leave behind some arrows or supplies for him to use.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The ground was cold. That was all Alfred could process as he lay still beneath the corpses of his mother and father. The Forsworn had attacked out of nowhere, leaving no one in the small caravan alive. He could still hear voices near him. Sounds of chests and bags being dumped out and broken. The smell of blood hanging over his head, and pools of it were surrounding him. Too much to be his own, and he could feel a dull ache in his leg. Probably broken, or worse.

They had never seen it coming. Only a week ago his family was in Winterhold to see his twin brother Matthew become Arch mage of the College. The trip there had been perfectly fine, their driver choosing to swoop down around Markarth and Whiterun to avoid the cold for as long as they could. Even the beginning of their return had seen little excitement aside from a wolf pack or two. Then Markarth had come and gone, the long trip nearly over as they came closer to Dragon Bridge and soon after, Solitude.

‘So close to being back home and safe.’ , Alfred thought tiredly, staring at the bloodied soil.

The Forsworn soon left with their spoils, but Alfred stayed still, frozen to the ground as if he were laying in ice. More footsteps reached his ears, but they were quieter than the ones from before. He heard a low mumble and the sound of wood scraping as it was moved came right after. Alfred tried with as much strength as he could muster to move, but the weight of two bodies on top of him was too great for him to move alone. His voice was low and cracked as he got out only a whisper, “..h.. help…”

All the noises stopped suddenly, his voice probably startling the lone figure. Then he heard a few curses and the footsteps slowly got closer to him. Alfred felt slight relief at the pressure being moved from his back, his parents being rolled off carefully. He moved slowly to push himself up, getting a good look at the man who just helped him.

The first thing Al noticed we scars, and this guy had a lot of them. The most prominent being on his left cheek, which looked an awful lot like claw marks, probably from a bear. In the back of his mind, Alfred made a note to not try to fight this guy. After he tore his eyes away from there, he could see the scruffy blonde hair and fairly large eyebrows that went with it. Then Alfred’s eyes met a forest greener than the West Weald of Cyrodiil, maybe even greener than the great forests of Valenwood, but he’d never been there before so it was difficult to compare.

Alfred didn’t even realize that he’d been spoken to until the man had stood up and started to walk away. “H-Hey! Wait!”, Al reached out and tried to stand but he winced at a sharp pain in his leg, “ ngh- ow! What..?”

An arrow had gone right through his left leg, right above the knee. Eye wide, Alfred tried to stay as calm as he could. So he couldn’t walk now, which was very bad if those Forsworn decided to come back. Then another pang hit right at his heart. He wouldn’t be able to bury his parents, or any of the guards, not in this state.

“Hmm… that’s not good…” , the green eyed stranger mumbled beside him, looking Alfred’s leg over carefully.

Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin as a pair of hands tore at his clothes. Then he couldn’t help but scream when the man cut the arrow and pulled it out in one swift motion. The other man worked quickly to tie a knot above the wound to restrict blood flow. More clothes were torn from clean patches on others and used to wrap the open wound.

Tears stung at Al’s eyes as he bit his own arm to keep from screaming anymore. That had hurt like hell, but at least the arrow was out now. Alfred said a silent prayer to Stendarr for the mercy this man had shown him.

Without another word, Alfred was helped to stand and pulled away to a nearby cavern, limping slowly over to a spot he could sit. He tried not to let out a noise when he accidentally stepped on the wrong leg, as it was very tender now, though he supposed it could have been worse. The arrow didn’t seem to have gone through any bone or major arteries, thank Mother Mara for that.

He sat on some rocks in the back, leaning against the wall to rest for a time before looking at the man who had saved him. His mysterious savior had already made a fire. Alfred could see some type of meat being cooked over the flame, but he couldn’t tell what it was from where he was sitting. Al then looked at the very back end of the cave. It didn’t go too deep, so hopefully no animals would decide to make this their new home.

A cool breeze whipped its way into the cave, pulling Al’s gaze over to a spot between the rocks where a patch of color caught his attention. Those were blisterwort mushrooms. If he remembered correctly, Blisterwort has healing properties and is used as a salve when combined with wheat. Maybe there was some growing nearby. If he was lucky anyway. Wheat wasn’t uncommon in this part of Skyrim, though it was generally found closer to Whiterun hold, rather than Markarth.

Alfred spared a glance to the other man then looked at the shrooms nestled in the crevice once more. He would never get anywhere without asking for help. Taking a moment to clear his throat and push the pain away, Al caught the silent stranger’s attention. “Um.. I.. thank you.. for helping me and.. I wanted to ask if you could help me. I can make something for my leg but, I can’t reach the ingredients. Could you help..?”

Biting his lip as another wave of pain surged through his leg, Alfred took a moment to lean his head against the cold, stone walls of the cave. Great, a fever, that’s just what he needed right now. How long had he been laying out there? Surely not long enough to get an infection, but he wouldn’t know. He’d never gotten sick that often back in Solitude.

The stranger watched him carefully, keeping an eye on Al’s hands, probably to make sure he wouldn’t make a move for any type of hidden weapon. Like he could anyway, with his leg feeling like it was split in half.

Another moment of silence ticked by before the man seemed to nod to himself. “Tell me what to get then. I cannot guarantee that I will find anything.”

A sigh of relief escaped Al’s lips as he relaxed on the wall again, raising an arm slowly to point to the corner where the Blisterwort was peeking out. “I need those.. Blisterwort is their name and I need wheat… or… or something… something with a healing property. I can’t think straight..”, he groaned and rubbed his forehead. Now he wished that he had payed more attention to that alchemy lesson the maid had given him.

The other glanced at the red shrooms, then stood and collected a couple. He left them on the rocks and within Al’s reach. “The Forsworn favor poison tipped arrows. I doubt healing alone will help you until the poison is out of your system.”

Alfred’s leg throbbed again, making him close his eyes. “… cure poison… cure poison… shit.. um…” He wracked his brain, trying to get his thoughts to process logically. Matthew had taught him a rhyme, right? “nngh… b-blisterwort and crop of wheat to… stitch the skin.. and.. mend the- mend the meat. Giant lichen.. skeever tail, um, soon your health will… start to fail?”

The green eyed man watched him curiously, listening to him prattle off the mnemonic. “St. John’s Nectar, shit what was it? St John’s Nectar… Redwort Flower! Poisons lose all their power, oh! That’s it! Redwort flower and St. John’s Wort… uh, nectar!”

The pain was surging through Alfred’s system, and now he definitely recognized the effects of a poison. He couldn’t tell which, but he knew it was a bad one. Hastily, he did his best to describe the flowers to the kind stranger, hoping he could find them and mix them properly. Al suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to sleep, and he did for at least two hours.

A cool, soothing feeling on his leg woke him from his nap. Alfred turned opened his eyes to see only the warm glow of the fire and a bowl of pink tinted liquid in front of him. The pain in his leg had returned to the dull ache he’d had before he was rescued, and he could see a beige mush squishing between his bandages.

On the bright side, his savior had fed him the poison antidote in his sleep and it looked to be properly mixed. The downside was that, while the mixture he’d made from the blisterwort and wheat would surely numb the pain, it wasn’t enough to heal his wound completely. As a drink, like the cure poison potion had been, the ingredients would have acted fast to seal the wound. The pain would have been worse, but worth it in the long run. With the ingredients mashed together like a salve, they were better suited to numbing pain and encouraging blood to clot and scab over. That would have been fine, had his wound not been so deep. An arrow wound was best treated using the other method.

Alfred sighed and sat back to think through his options. He could wait it out and see how it healed, which would be fine, but he’d still have a hole through his muscles. What else could he do?

A voice inside his head screamed at him, but he attempted to ignore it. There was no way he was going to do that. Nords didn’t do that kind of stuff! It was dangerous and uncontrollable and his brother could blow himself up for all he cared! Alfred was never doing magic again. Besides, he didn’t know how the man who had rescued him would react. Surely he’d notice that Alfred could walk again sooner than normal. He could be one of those types that straight up attacks magic users. It was too risky.

The internal debate plagued Alfred’s mind as he tried to sleep again. It would just be one time. It was healing magic, not destruction or something else equally dangerous. Just a few seconds…

Al’s hands twitched. He could feel the magicka surging within him from his thoughts alone, rising out of his chest and flowing into his hands. Before he could stop himself, he let the honey colored light flood the cave, magicka flowing like silk from his palms and wrapping around his hurt leg. Alfred had to bite his lip to keep back a noise of pain as he felt every muscle reconnect. The pain was worth it though, as soon he could feel nothing but sweet relief.

At least, until there was a dagger at his throat.


	2. A Face to a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred had just used a simple spell to heal his leg, but his saviour doesn't take too kindly to magic users.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D I actually managed to finish this second chapter hoooo boy. More notes at the end.

Dagger at his neck, Alfred could feel the regret seep into every crevice of his mind. The kindly stranger was breathing heavy behind him, almost as if he were in some kind of panic. Using magic so openly had been a bad idea, though Alfred should have expected that. No matter how many times he used this gods forsaken skill, something bad happened. Hopefully he could talk his way out of this.

“W-Woah there! I didn't mean to frighten you, it just hurt so damn much-" He was cut off as his back hit the rocky cavern wall.

Venomous green eyes bore into his very soul with a look of such scathing hatred, it honestly almost made Alfred soil himself with fear. Now that Alfred could get a better look at them, he noticed that the scars on this man's face were not only bear claws, but also faded frost burn scars across his right cheek and onto his neck.

Nervously, Alfred held his hands up. They were visibly shaking now, and he prayed to all the divines that this would not be his end. After a few tense moments of silence, the dagger was sheathed, but a strong arm kept him pinned to the wall.

“If I had known you were a mage-" The man began to speak, but Alfred quickly cut him off.

“I'm not! I'm not a mage! I-I only know a bit of basic healing magic!” He shouted in a panic, too scared to stop. “My nanny would teach Mattie and I all about restoration and alchemy and only one destructive spell of fire because she wanted us to be safe and if we ever needed healing or defense then we would have it but my mom found out and had her sent away and oh please in the name of Talos and the Eight, please don't kill me!”

Confusion was the first emotion Alfred recognized on the stranger's face. He could practically see the words being picked apart within the mind of this lone hunter. Well, Alfred assumed the man was a hunter. His leather armor and the pelts strapped to his belt gave a few clues, as well as a bow and dagger being the weapons of choice for him. Not to mention he lived alone out here. All were telltale signs of a poacher or hunter. 

“Could you, uh, let me down?” Alfred asked weakly, trying his best to smile, even a little.

“If you're well enough to walk, then you can leave. Now get out.”

“Wait, what? But it's dark out now, can't I at least--"

“No. I don't want anything more to do with magic users of any kind, or anyone for that matter. Get. Out.”

Alfred stumbled as he was released from that tight grip, though he didn't dare leave the cave yet. He had to at least stall and try to convince this man that he could stay the night. Hopefully he could even get an escort to the nearest city, though he doubted that very much.

“Please just... just let me stay for tonight? I don't even know which direction to go from here and what if more Forsworn come? I couldn't defend myself against a toddler if I wanted to!”

He felt desperation leak into his voice, but there were no other options for him now. Going outside this cave on his own would almost certainly be suicide! Not to mention he'd used all of his magic energy on that healing spell. The wound had been large enough that it simply sucked away all of his magicka as it healed.

Tension filled the stale air of the cavern, and it almost became unbearable before a heavy sigh broke the silence.

“One night.”

Alfred could feel hope rise in his chest. “Oh Gods above bless you! I don't even think I could walk very far alone anyway... I didn't quite get it healed all the way through, but it was enough to stop any bleeding. I wish I knew--"

“If you keep talking, I will cut your tongue out and leave your for dead in the woods.” A sharp glare and those words had Alfred shutting up instantly.

For about five minutes anyway. He had always been a talker, especially when he was nervous or upset. Parents being dead and left for the wolves definitely fit under the upset category, and his nerves still hadn't quite settled from the threats before.

“So...” Alfred began as he took a seat by the fire, “You got a name? It's kinda hard to just keep referring to you as ‘Scary Hunter’ in my head.”

He got no reply at first. Then after about the tenth time asking, that very same dagger from before was being held up to Alfred's mouth. 

“If I give you a name, will you stop talking?”

“I'd say that's fair.” Alfred gave a little nod of affirmation, eagerly awaiting the name of his terrifying saviour.

After another silence, Alfred was about to speak again, but he was cut off by the very name he'd waited to hear.

“Arthur.” Green eyes watched the fire, expression unreadable. “My name is Arthur. Now go to sleep and stop talking to me.”

Well, that was a start. Alfred watched as Arthur stoked the fire, even more questions popping into his mind. Sadly, he'd agreed to be quiet, so instead of asking anything else, he tried to get comfortable enough to sleep on the rocks.

There was always tomorrow.

When tomorrow did come, Alfred was slow to rise. The entirety of his sleep had been plagued by nightmares of the attack, leaving him mentally drained by morning. Those nightmares must have been heard by Arthur, because there was food waiting for him as he sat up, and even a dried bear pelt had been placed over him at some point in the night. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad, or maybe Alfred had just sounded super pathetic.

After eating what had been left for him, Alfred went to the entrance of the cave, where Arthur was using a stone to sharpen his tools. He was greeted with a glance and a grunt, Arthur not really being one for conversation once again. That was fine, Alfred could hold both ends on his own.

“Thanks, uh, for the fur and food. You’ve been real kind to me, and I wanna repay you but...” Alfred fiddled with his torn clothing. “I wanted to ask of you could help me out one last time.”

Arthur set down the rock, not even looking at Alfred as he answered. “No.”

“B-But I didn't even tell you what it was!”

“I don't care. I said no.”

“Please? My only family lives on the other side of Skyrim, and I have no way to get to him! Not alone!” Alfred wanted to kneel and beg, but he tried bargaining instead. “I could get you a new bow! Or, um... I could give you my inheritance!”

Arthur didn't even spare him a glance. “I live just fine out here, I don't need your money. However...”

That word had Alfred perking up, some hope rising in his chest. Was there something he could give Arthur? He would do almost anything!

“A new bow does sound tempting... if you could get a Daedric bow.” The smirk on Arthur's lips made it seem like he was teasing Alfred for fun.

“Deal.”

It was worth it already, just to see that smirk vanish in favor of surprise. Alfred knew he could afford it, though finding one on the market was the real challenge. Maybe his brother would know where to find one. In any case, he was willing to buy it from the damn thieves guild if it meant he would have an escort.

Arthur eyed Alfred suspiciously, most likely wondering if he was lying, and to be fair, that was one hell of a promised payment. 

“You're serious?” Arthur stood and held the dagger in Alfred's face as a threat. “If I take you to your family, you will get me one?”

“I swear it to Talos.” Alfred replied easily, a smile growing on his face. “I'll get you one soon after you take me to Winterhold.”

“Winterhold..? Bloody hell, that really is the other side of the map... and full of mages.” Alfred watched Arthur debate with himself.

“Hey, they aren't so bad over there... at least they have rules. I think.” He wasn't entirely sure, but Matthew would definitely make some if there weren't many.

Eventually, Alfred heard a resigned sigh leave Arthur's lips, and he knew he had won the man over. Hopefully things would keep looking up like this for him. He needed some good luck, especially after he'd felt abandoned by the very gods he believed in.

“Alright, you're just lucky I need to travel to that end of Skyrim anyway. I'll take you. That bow had better be in my hands fast, too.” Arthur stomped out of the cavern. “Gather whatever you feel you may need, we leave at dawn tomorrow.”

With that, Arthur vanished into the woods, likely going to hunt for their dinner. Alfred was left at the cave, though he felt fairly safe in the area. Taking that advice to heart, he strayed outside just a but to look for ingredients that would help them on their journey.

Hopefully his troubles were over for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Index of lore
> 
> Daedric: Something made by/belonging to Daedra.
> 
> Daedra: The malevolent opposites of the Gods, there are 17 Daedric Princes, genderless beings that reside in the realm of Oblivion. (they can take on either a male, female, animal, demonic, or even a mix of all forms when they show themselves to mortals) The Princes rule over the hoards of lesser Daedra and enjoy meddling in the affairs of mortals for their amusement.

**Author's Note:**

> Index for terms not everyone will know unless they’ve played the games a lot like me probably. :’D
> 
>  
> 
> Forsworn : ‘Madmen and women’ of the Reach, they attack just about everyone on sight, and practice ancient generally forbidden magics.
> 
> The Reach : The area around the City of Markarth, which is full of Forsworn and the Nords who fight them.
> 
> Nords : Proud people native to Skyrim (sorta), they find honor in battle and are more wary of magic than the other races of Tamriel (the continent Skyrim is on).
> 
> College of Winterhold : A university of magic perched precariously on a rock outside Winterhold, parts of it were lost to the sea along with most of the city over a very short period of time when the ocean suddenly bashed the shores, the cause is still unknown, but many Nords blame the College and its magic. The college says it could have been after effects of volcanic eruption many years prior.
> 
> Solitude : The city Alfred was born in, and the Capitol of Skyrim, where the High King lives.
> 
> Cyrodiil : The seat of the Empire, located to the South of Skyrim, where the Imperial race is native (sorta).
> 
> Valenwood : Very far south of Skyrim, land of the Bosmer, or Wood Elves, full of very dense and beautiful forests.
> 
> Stendarr : One of the Nine Divines (Eight to some), God of Mercy.
> 
> Mara : One of the Nine (Eight) Divines, Mother Goddess and Goddess of Love.
> 
> Healing Magic : One of the most basic spells someone with magical ability can learn, one of only three spells Alfred currently knows.


End file.
